Mariel of Redwall (Redwall, Book 4)
Brian Jacques, Gary Chalk
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When the rat pirate Gabool the Wild attacks the mouse-ship carrying Joseph the Bellmaker, he plunders its magnificent bell in a fit of greed, and then pitilessly casts Joseph and his daughter Mariel into the raging sea. After she is rescued and brought to Redwall Abbey, Mariel sets out with three fearless Mossflower companions (and her trusty rope-weapon, the Gullwhacker) to track down Gabool and avenge her father-and thus begins an unforgettable battle!
the tunnel, Rawnblade stooping to get his great size through the opening. Dandin was last in. Quickly he set flint and tinder to a dry brush torch and passed it to Mariel. ‘Hold this and watch.’ Leaning out of the cave entrance, Dandin gave the boulder a light push and sprang back. The massive rock tottered slightly and rolled back into its former position, blocking the tunnel entrance. He took a wedge of ship’s timber and slammed it tight against the bottom of the boulder. ‘There, that’ll stop
more attention to the pretty cook than to the recipe. ‘Now, to make woodland summercream pudding we need a deep earthenware bowl. Pass me that one, please.’ Dandin and Saxtus fought each other to grab the bowl and give it to Treerose. Calmly she took it from them with a disarming smile. ‘Great sillies, you nearly broke it, fighting like that. Right, now pay attention. First a thick coating of redcurrant jelly inside the bowl. Next, roll out your sweet chestnut pastry very thin, like this. . .
belligerent husband. The four babies sat at the foot of a dead ash with them, fighting uproariously at every opportunity, much to the amusement of their parents. The food was surprisingly good. There was a white mushroom salad specially laid on for the travellers. The owls did not eat. Dandin decided that it would not be polite to ask them what their diet was, though the odd barkdoth and weeds in the bushes left him in little doubt. After supper Dandin sang and played his harolina, an impromptu
investigated the noise further. It was coming from the wicker gate. Now there were voices. ‘Y’don’t suppose they’ve bally well gone to bed, wot?’ ‘Hardly, old chap. After all, they are under invasion, y’know.’ ‘Imagine sleepin’ through a fire-swinger attack. Whoohahahahooh!’ ‘Please, Rosie, don’t laugh so dose to me poor old ear, it’s jolly well deafenin’. In fact, don’t gurgle at all if y’can help it, old gel. Just think happy thoughts, eh.’ ‘Oh come off it, Clary you old bodger. If I
sniffed it appreciatively. ‘Oh, jasmine and lavender soap! Where did you get it? No, don’t tell me, I’d hate to think of one of my Dibbuns stealing.’ Oak Tom pulled a long face. The Abbot patted his head fondly. ‘She’s only joking, Tom. Come and talk to me, tell me all the news of your travels. You’re just in time for lunch – we’re eating out in the orchard. Summer salad, leek and celery soup, hot rootbread and strawberry trifle to follow.’ ‘You must’ve known I was comin’ back. My favourite